Seize the Day
by Lady of Romance
Summary: The Winged Elves and Humans are at war once again.Alya the rightful heir to the Human throne is captured by the enemy.Its their hope that she will save them from the wrath of her wicked aunt.Will she discover her true power in time and banish the darkness
1. Prologue

**A/N: **Hello, my lovely readers. I have been playing Perfect World for a month or two now and have fallen in love with it. Call me a nerd, but it is a great way to pass away the boring hours of the day; hours that I should probably spend writing lol Anyway, I have done a little research and thought it was interesting that the Winged Elves and Humans once fought a war against each other before the war with the wraiths. So I came up with this story one night and decided it would be an excellent one to put up on here. So I hope you will all like it as much as I am already beginning to love writing it. Read and enjoy!

Seize the Day

It was two hundred years after the war with the wraiths. The remaining few that survived had finally been eradicated; the monsters that had once riddled the land had been driven into the Wastelands. Once more the world was safe and at peace. The treaty among the three races: Humans, Winged Elves, and Untamed, still remained intact. To secure the peace, a change was made in the Human government, and authority over their kingdoms was given to the women of royal blood. These women had a bloodline that ran back to that of the Winged Elves. Magic coursed within their veins, thus making it more effortless for the queen to protect her people. It was hoped that they would prove less driven by lust for power and wealth. And for many years this proved to be true.

The world entered a period of prosperity; the land flourishing without the pestilence of monsters. It was during this time that the Human queen Cordelia, old age beginning to hinder her abilities to govern her people, had to choose her heir between her twin daughters. At the age of nineteen, both were practiced Wizards; well learned in the magic arts. The first-born, Eleora, was compassionate and tender in nature with excellent skills in diplomacy. Her sister, Demelza, was more ambitious and cunning; her interest lying within the art of warfare and combat. The two sisters had many qualities that were sought for in a fine queen.

And so, the Queen gave her daughters a simple task to decide which of the two would be more fit to take her place on the throne. Their task was a moral one; they would be given a situation and they would have to explain how they would solve it. The situation was this: if their allies were to turn against them and march on against their people, how would they defend them. The girls were given a week to think on this. And when their week was up, they visited their mother one by one in her bed chamber. Both were only closeted with Cordelia for a few minutes, but the over all decision went on for two days. At the close of the second day, the daughters were summoned to the throne room where their mother received them.

It was then, that Queen Cordelia revealed that she would pass on her crown to Eleora, for even in the face of a war, she would still attempt to hold together the promise of peace. Demelza, however, had told her mother she would gather such an army to the defense of their kingdoms that whomever opposed them would never stand a chance for victory. It seemed at the time that both daughters accepted the queen's decision graciously. In truth though, Demelza was furious. She felt she surpassed her sister in all aspects that were required of a queen, and that it should have been she that was chosen. But Demelza being clever of mind knew that now was not her time to act. She would wait; gain the trust and loyalty of those that would be of great importance to her later on. And when the moment was right, she would act.

A month later, Queen Cordelia passed on, and Eleora ascended the throne. She proved to be as benevolent and just as her mother. Demelza became High Priestess of the Wizards, delving even more deeply into the mystic arts and over-seeing the training of future Wizards. Eleora's subjects loved her, and under her rule the peace continued. In the fifth year of her reign, Queen Eleora took a consort, a decorated Blademaster in her army by the name of Alasdair. Theirs was a pure and true love, and the beautiful daughter that was blessed upon them a year later was the product of that love. An heir to the throne made the future look brighter still. She was given the name Alya, and her demeanor was as warm and bright as her name. Even as an infant, the mystic powers of her ancestors were apparent in her. She too would become a Wizard like her mother before her.

Life seemed so perfect, until their world came crashing down. When Alya was nearly three years old, her father Alasdair fell in battle, protecting the land from monsters that tries to cross over from the Wastelands. His body was brought back to the city of Etherblade where he was then buried, and a statue was erected in his honor. With the lost of her consort, Queen Eleora descended into a deep depression. Not even her loving and brilliant daughter could coax her back from the abyss of her grief. And with the loss of her happiness, her health also began to diminish. Everyone who loved her watched as Eleora's strength and beauty waned away a little more each day. She survived a month, maybe two before her frail body could not live with the suffering anymore. Queen Eleora passed on, leaving behind a scared and lonely, grief-stricken child and an empty throne. Princess Alya was too young to become queen over the Human kingdoms, which left the control over the government unbound.

It was then, Demelza saw that the opportunity that she had been waiting so long and patiently for had finally arrived. Fate had at last smiled upon her and granted Demelza her deepest wish. Stepping forward as the devoted and kindhearted aunt that she appeared to be, Demelza offered to be Alya's regent until she reached the age of nineteen and was fit to rule as queen. At first, it seemed like the perfect solution, and the council that had advised the queen agreed that it was in the best interest of the people. But once Demelza was crowned and put upon the throne, everything began to turn dark. She started to push on the boundaries of the Elvin and Untamed lands, claiming that the land belonged to the Humans. The Winged Elves became angered at this; the betrayal of their treaty re-opening old wounds. Before long, the war of centuries ago had once more arose. The Untamed for the most part, retreated back into the mountains. Those that didn't want to remain neutral and watch from the sidelines picked sides, fighting for either money or other personal motives.

The war was even more brutal and bloody than before. Just as she had once promised her mother, Demelza rose up such an army that it took everything the Winged Elves and their forces had to keep them at bay. Whatever Human resistance that tried to fight against Demelza was crushed almost as soon as it had started. She had powerful Wizards and Blademasters at her beck and call, not to mention the Barbarians and Venomancers that she paid handsomely to fight for her cause. It was apparent far too late what the council had allowed to happen. Demelza would not rest until she had supreme control over the entire world. She would crush anyone in her way without a second thought. The future began to look very bleak indeed.

Those who still clung onto the hope for peace held faith in that one day the daughter of their beloved Queen Eleora, Princess Alya, would deliver them from this nightmare. As the years drug on without sign of the war ending, rumors flew among the faithful of a prophesy, predicting the come of a great warrior who would liberate the world from the dark force that sought to enslave them. No one dared to speak of it aloud, for to do so, would mean treason in the Human kingdoms. But in comforting whispers to frighten children and hopeful murmurs around the campfire, the prophesy was recited like a cherished prayer.

_When the Light dies from the land_

_Consumed by the Darkness_

_Hence shall arise a savior_

_A warrior of the royal blood_

_Who shall end the days of Darkness_

_The Light-Bringer shall triumph_

And so, the story begins…

**A/N: **I think it is off to a good start! Well, you know what to do. Leave me lots of wonderful reviews and i will try to update asap! Love, LOR


	2. Half Life

**A/N:** Well, here is the next chapter. I'm surprised at how well it actually turned out and how fast I got it typed up. I thought it would be a boring write, but it was actually pretty entertaining and the inspiration kept coming. I hope you all enjoy it too. Do your thing...

An armored figure made its way up the steps leading to the castle of Etherblade. The person was flanked by two, larger soldiers, also garbed in armor and were heavily armed. An ornate staff of silver was strapped to the individual's back; precious gems embedded into the silver glittered in the light. An iridescent, tear-drop shaped jewel was set at the top, encased by engravings of ivy and leaves that snaked their way down the stem of the staff. A sheath holding a sword as long and thick as the figure's arm bounced against the owner's leg in rhythm to its ascent up the stairs.

When the three made their way up to the very top landing, the individual removed its helmet and tucked it in the crook of one arm, revealing the face of a young woman. She shook head briefly, allowing the dark tresses that weren't pulled back into a braid to fall frame her face. Brilliant eyes the color of blue topaz surveyed the sentries guarding the main doors coolly as the woman continued towards them. With a respectful bow of their heads, they opened the doors for her and her companions. Maintaining her course, she proceeded through the hall of the great castle, which was alive with activity. Servants scurried around like frantic mice to accomplish their tasks. Many either diverted their path when they saw her coming or bowed with a quiet muttering of "My Lady". The woman began to remove the leather gloves that were on her hands, still keeping her helmet firmly in the crook of her arm, and her pace never faltering. As the trio marched through the corridors, a courtier ran up to the lady, performing a swift bow as he hurried to keep up with her long strides.

"My Lady Princess," He addressed her, hastily, "it is with great pleasure that I welcome you back to Etherblade. May I inquire as to how your journey was?"

"Perfectly adequate, Sir Edmund," She stated, nonchalantly, "how fairs my aunt the queen?"

"She fairs well, My Lady," Sir Edmund replied with a nod, "and will be most happy to hear that her niece has returned unharmed."

Bitter amusement flashed through Alya's eyes as she continued on her way.

"You may tell Her Majesty that I will be retiring to my chambers and will remain there if she should be of need of me." She told him.

"Very well, My Lady," Sir Edmund answered, bowing again before rushing off as soon as he had come.

And so Princess Alya made her way through the corridors until she arrived to a quieter wing of the palace. She came to a set of double doors which led to her rooms. Throwing them open, Alya entered as her escort stationed themselves outside her doors. The doors closed behind her, and finally she felt relief flow throughout her body. The guarded, impassive façade she had worn since she had arrived began to slip away. She looked around the familiar surroundings of her room. A part of her had missed it, the room she had lived in since a small girl. The dark, polished wood of the furniture, the rich tapestries and rugs, the luxurious hides of animals she herself had hunted and skinned…But at the same time this place felt as restraining as a prison. For she knew as long as she walked the halls of the castle, her every move was being scrutinized. As long as she was contained in these walls, her life was jeopardized.

If only she could have stayed with the Sensei another week or two. At least there she felt like she could wholly be herself without the constant worry of being watched. There she could master her magic in piece. Alya kind of missed the old man's silent and peculiar behavior: the way he appeared and disappeared without her knowing, how he mumbled in languages she didn't understand, and spoke in unending strings of riddles that made no sense at all. But she had known if she had staid much longer, her aunt would have grown suspicious of her whereabouts. She didn't even know for sure if the knights that always accompanied her were loyal in their promise. All she knew was her aunt hadn't found out yet that she had been visiting the Sensei for the past three years, so she assumed they kept it to themselves. They seemed like decent men.

Alya walked about her room slowly, trailing her fingers over the furniture as she passed. Throwing her gloves and helmet down onto a chaise, she unbuckled her sword sheath and set it down beside them. She could feel her staff's familiar and comforting weight against her back and felt reassured. Stepping out onto her balcony, her eyes were drawn to the sunset. The colors it threw up into the sky were spectacular, taking the very breath from her lungs for a moment. Leaning on the banister, she knew if she were to look upon the castle from below it would appear white with a golden, pearl-like sheen, equally mesmerizing as it was majestic. Etherblade was her home and in her heart she loved it as it used to be.

When her mother had been Queen…

Even though Alya had been so young when she had died, there wasn't a day that went by where she didn't miss her. In her mind, she could still envision her as she once had been: beautiful, exultant, and gentle. Her smile could have lit the darkest room, and in her heart it relieved some of the gloom. She wished desperately her mother had held on; found the strength to thrive for her. And a bitter part of her told Alya her mother had just loved her father more and could not bare the separation even for her sake. Still she loved her more than anything else. Alya's fingers came up to brush the Ethian love-knot her father had given her mother when they had been betrothed. The silver twisted around unendingly: a symbol of his undying love. It hung from her delicate neck on a chain of gold, and she hadn't taken it off since her mother had given it to her on her death bed.

"Give it to your heart's equal," she had said.

Alya scoffed to herself at that notion. In all her eighteen years, she had never met such a person. After her mother passed, no one had loved her in such a way since, and she was beginning to believe no one would.

Suddenly, a knock sounded from her doors, ripping her away from her stupor. Alya strode over to them, pulling her composed and detached front back into place. Opening a door, she peered out at her guards, who stood facing her.

"My Lady, Her Majesty requests an audience with you in the throne room." One told her, coolly.

Alya nodded in reply, stepping out of her room and closing the door behind her. She made her way to the throne room swiftly, knowing her aunt did not like to be kept waiting. Once she was there, the guards in front of the doors allowed them entrance. Alya's sentries took their places on the inside of the door, and she continued on further into the room. It was a large, cathedral-sized room with the queen's standards hung all long the white stone walls. They were dark crimson banners of considerable size with the depiction of a great, yellowish-brown hawk. Its massive wings were spread out in intimidation; black beak and talons open and outstretched, ready to capture its prey. It was the same hawk that was emblazed onto the front of her chest plate. The chamber was almost devoid of people, except for two figures at the end of the room elevated up on a dais. Several stone steps led up to the dais where beneath a canopy of gold sat her aunt, Queen Demelza.

She was a regal and cold-looking woman with insipid, sharp features. Her pale blond hair was twisted up on top of the crown of her head; the golden coronet resting upon her brow. The jewels flickered in the dying light that came from the windows. She was dressed in a gown of deep plum, the color of royalty. Her neck and wrists were laden with gold and precious gems, a mark of her wealth. In her left hand, she held a staff of dark metal. Blood red rubies trailed up the staff where the top split off into four spikes. Nestled in the center of them was a glass sphere that contained an opaque, swirling vapor. Eyes such a dark blue that they almost appeared to be black stared down at her warily, studying her every move. Behind the queen stood her Untamed Barbarian guard; this one of lion form. He was paid substantially for his services to protect her at all times. A thick and heavy-appearing armor of metal and leather covered his entire, immense build. Two, large axes were strapped to his back, ready for him to grab in his enormous, clawed hands at a moments notice. The Barbarian leered down at her menacingly, and even though she hid it well, Alya felt fear chill her heart.

When she was close to the first step, she knelt down on one knee, head bowed and a clenched fist held over her heart. Demelza lips quirked up in a haughty smirk as she spoke in a honey-sweet voice, "Arise, my niece."

Alya did so, keeping her eyes focused on the stone steps. She dared not to meet her aunt's probing eyes.

"I trust your tour of our boarders was satisfactory?" Demelza asked a suspicious edge to her tone.

"Yes, it was." Alya informed her, spinning the well-practiced lie. "The boarders to our lands are secure."

"Excellent," Her aunt replied, her smirk twisting into a displeased sneer_._ "Though I hear our forces at Archosaur are weakening. I fear our enemy might break our hold on the city if they are not reinforced."

"That would be a grave loss indeed." Alya agreed, instinctively.

"I know that you have just returned home and would most surely require rest, but we cannot afford to lose Archosaur. It is the key to penetrating the Elves defenses." The queen explained, intently. "Therefore I need you to ride out in the morning to take command of the army there and secure the city for us."

"I understand, Your Majesty, and will do as you so bid." Alya recited the phrase that so often came from her lips when in these discussions with her aunt.

This display of obedience from her niece coaxed the smirk to return to Demelza's features. She loved having such power over Alya, doing with her as she pleased. For she knew that Alya understood that Demelza was a far stronger Wizard than she was and would end her with the slightest flick of her fingers. Demelza reclined leisurely back into the great throne in which she sat and surveyed Alya coolly.

"After all, all our warriors might need is just a little reassurance from their lead general." Demelza chirped, off-handedly. "In all the battles you have led them in, our troops have never failed. You are truly a credit to our cause."

"Your Grace is far too kind." Alya mumbled just loud enough for her to hear.

Her fists clenched and unclenched at her side. Alya knew full well when her aunt was mocking her.

"You deserve all the praise I rain upon you." Demelza told her, her eyes alight with laughter. "Now, you have a long journey ahead of you so I suggest that you return to your chambers and get a good night's rest. When you depart, know that you go with my blessing."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Alya responded, kneeling again like she had before.

Then taking her leave, she wheeled around and strode away. Though she chose not to fully acknowledge the notion, Alya knew deep down that her aunt would not be at all saddened if she left.

And never came back…

Alya's guards followed her from the throne room and made their way back to her chambers in their usually silence. When the doors were securely shut behind them, Demelza let out an airy chuckle as she ran her hands over her finery.

"Yes, she does go with my blessing, Romulus." She spoke to her Barbarian with a malevolent gleam in her dark eyes. "And let us hope that _my_ soldiers do not fail in their task. Tonight, Princess Alya resides in my castle for the last time."

"Yes, My Lady." Romulus growled in his rough voice.

**A/N: **Even though she's completely evil, Demelza is still a fun character to write about. I hate to compare her to another charater from a completely different story, but she just reminds me a bit of Bellatrix, twisted and perfectly content with who she is. But still evil to the core lol I hope this chapter is as well liked as I think it'll be. Please give me lots of wonderful reviews while I write up the next chapter. Lots of love, LOR


	3. Away

**A/N:** Well here is another chapter my lovely readers. I'm on a roll with this one. Read and enjoy...

Alya made her way to the stables, her usually escort following behind her. She tried desperately the keep down the yawn she had been stifling all morning. All night she had tossed in turned. No matter how hard she had tried, Alya couldn't get comfortable, even when fatigue had been gnawing at her. She guessed it was because she was so used to sleeping on the hard ground, and the soft mattress of her bed had been too much of a change. It was odd not to wake up to the smell of breakfast already cooking over the fire in the stew pot. The Sensei would have been up since before sunrise, and she would find him mediating outside the cave. She still rose with the sun, though instead of breakfast cooking over an open flame; it had been brought in on a tray by a servant. There had been no old mage waiting for her that morning, only her guards, ready to ride out.

Clad in her armor and weapons, she entered the stables and got the attention of one of the stable hands to go get her horse. Her guards wandered off to check if their own mounts were ready. After a few minutes, the stable hand brought a great, bay stallion, already saddled. The large horse dwarfed Alya, who barely came up to his shoulder. The stable hand thrusted the horse's reigns into her hand. As he made to leave, the horse whipped his head around, teeth bared. The stable hand threw himself against one of the stalls, avoiding the horse's bite. He glared at the animal before hurrying off, keeping his distance from its rear legs. Alya smirked; Aeolus wasn't very fond of men, which suited his mistress just fine. Aeolus looked down at her with kind brown eyes, nudging his sizeable nose against her arm affectionately. Alya smiled and stroked along the white stripe running down his head.

"I was only gone one night, and you have missed me already?" She cooed, softly.

Aeolus nickered, nodding his head as if in response to her question. Alya chuckled, scratching him behind his ear.

"Well, I missed you too." She murmured, tenderly, rubbing her cheek against his head.

"And me? Have you missed me as well?" A voice called from behind her.

Alya turned and saw a man leaning against the entrance of the stable. Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed the smirk upon his face. Aeolus felt his mistress tense beside him and his ears twitched back and forth, his head rising at attention. The man pushed himself off of the doorway and made his way over to her with a swagger. He was an imposing figure of decent size. His head was shaved, but black bristles grew on his upper lip and chin. Dark eyes surveyed her appraisingly. Alya turned away from him and turned her attention back to her horse, looking over the fastenings to his saddle.

"I had heard that you had returned yesterday." The stranger said. "And yet you did not think to seek me out? I'm rather hurt."

"My apologies, Lord Sythus," Alya mumbled, focusing on tightening Aeolus' girth.

Lord Sythus smirked, running his hand along Aeolus' neck. The horse pinned his ears and made to bite at the man. Sythus glared back at the horse, his hand rising slightly.

"He doesn't take kindly to strangers." Alya told him, suppressing the smirk that twitched upon her lips.

Sythus threw a cold glance back at Aeolus before turning his attention back to Alya.

"And now, here you are," He continued, "leaving again."

"I have been called to Archosaur." Alya replied, indifferently. "I go where the queen bids me."

"Ever the queen's faithful servant," Sythus sneered at her, "whatever would Archosaur do without the kingdom's head general?"

Alya's knuckles turned white as her grip tightened extensively. Sythus saw this and smirked. He came to stand behind her, towering over her petite form. His hot, stale breath swept over the exposed skin of her neck causing the hairs to stand on end.

"How many armies have you brought down, Princess?" He goaded her. "How much blood has stained your hands?"

Alya's eyes flashed angrily as she spun around and backhanded him sharply. Sythus' head whipped to the side, shock apparent on his face. Alya glared at him defiantly, resentment rolling off of her in waves.

"You will hold your tongue before your superior," She spat at him between clenched teeth, "Captain."

Sythus turned back, holding a hand to his face. His dark eyes gleamed with fury, but Alya stood firm, unafraid. A smirk eventually twisted itself back upon his lips, an almost amused chuckle sounded from his throat.

"Such spirit in you," He said, quietly, running a hand along her cheek, "I see a bit of your aunt in you. It is no wonder that you are such a fierce warrior."

Alya stiffened from both his touch and the comment. It did more damage than her slap had done to him. She brushed away his hand, glowering up at him.

"I fight for my people," She hissed, her voice trembling with fury. "Never forget that."

With that she turned and mounted Aeolus in one fluid motion. He raised his head proudly, stomping his feet, eager to be off. Alya glanced back, noticing her guards mounting their own horses. She looked down at Sythus coolly, tightening her hold on Aeolus' reigns. Sythus crossed a fist over his heart, saluting her mockingly. Alya turned away from him and spurred her horse along, placing her helmet over her head. Aeolus trotted out into the street; the white horses of Alya's guards followed him.

People parted before them, watching as they departed the city. Alya flushed under her helmet, uncomfortable under the gaze of so many. She knew their looks for they had been imprinted in her mind since a small age: desperate, sorrowful, pleading. A part of her ached for she knew what it was they wanted of her. This war had taken its toll on them all, and they looked to her to bring it to an end. But she could not…even if she wanted to. Her aunt was too powerful with many sorcerers who would protect her. There was no possible way for her to do it alone.

As they made their way to the gate, a commotion went up among the crowd. Alya looked from the corner of her visor and saw a middle-aged woman pushing her way towards her. She was calling out to her, trying her hardest to grab Alya's attention.

"My Lady, please," She beseeched Alya, breaking through the crowd, "please, listen to me! I beg of you…hear me!"

Alya urged Aeolus on, and he obeyed, feeling his mistress's distress. The woman followed, running along side the great stallion, struggling to be acknowledged.

"I have lost two sons to this war, and my youngest has been called to serve! Please, My Lady, he is only fourteen! He is too young to see the cruelty of battle!" She cried, desperately. "Please, Princess, spare him! Speak to the queen on my behalf!"

Alya looked on ahead, afraid to look the woman in the eye. She felt the woman's pain for she herself had only been thirteen when she had fought in her first battle. And for five years she had fought for a cause she did not believe in. The woman tripped back into the throng of people, where guards pulled her to her feet and started to carry her off.

"Please, My Lady, please!" She shouted, shrilly.

Alya dug her spurs into Aeolus' side, and he jumped into a full gallop. She let him carry her away from the woman's screams for mercy, from the pain of knowing she had just sealed the end of another young man's life. She blinked away the tears that attempted to blur her vision. The wind whipped about her as she and her guards left the city of Etherblade behind them. It was a three day ride south to Archosaur, one and a half if they rode through the night. After awhile, Alya was finally able to banish the woman's cries from her head and let herself be comforted by the beauty of nature. Trees surrounded them, shielding them from the harsh rays of the summer sun. Birds sang among the branches, untroubled by the woes of man.

They rode hard all day, stopping for nothing. Around sunset, they slowed their horses to a trot, but kept on their course. Alya was lulled into a calm stupor from the steady rhythm of her horse's strides. She chanted a cooling spell to relieve the heat from her body. The rings that hung from her staff jingled merrily in time with Aeolus' steps. Her guards remained silent, keeping up behind her. Alya sighed; it was good to be back in the wild again.

Suddenly, something went whistling by her head, and Alya heard a choked gasp from behind her. When she turned, she saw an arrow had pierced one of her guards right through his helmet! The other guard's horse danced away from the other one as it reared up in panic, dismounting its rider. Alya and the other guard drew out their swords and spurred their horses into flight. Chanting hurriedly under her breath, Alya summoned a protective shield around herself as more arrows rained down upon them. They glanced off of the shield and fell to the ground behind her. Her guard raised up his shield to protect his head. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Alya saw something flying up behind them. Dark smoke surrounded it like a mist with sparks of light dancing within it, and she was unable to distinguish what it was. It swerved back and forth behind them, making it hard for Alya to keep a good eye on it.

She looked back ahead to see where Aeolus was carrying her just in time to see a figure riding a massive, enchanted blade appear before them. Alya and her guard slit, trying to avoid him as he pulled out a large, scythe from behind his back. With one great swoop, he beheaded her surviving guard, who toppled from his horse. The white stallion ran off into the woods, leaving Alya and Aeolus on their own. Alya kicked at Aeolus' sides, urging him to go faster. The great stallion lengthened his strides, galloping as fast as he possibly could to carry his mistress to safety. Alya glanced behind her, but found no trace of the flying swordsman. He had disappeared completely. Relief began to flow through her body, and her shield faltered, relieving the tension slightly.

Just when she thought she was safe, Alya felt something hard slam into her side and knocked her clean off her horse. She crashed painfully to the ground, the air temporarily leaving her lungs. Grasping her sword that lay beside her, Alya struggled clumsily to her feet. She chanted a series of spells to herself, and her sword began to glow a bright blue. Something landed behind her, and Alya spun around, lunging at it fiercely. All her years of combat training left her in that second, and with blind fury she swung her sword around deftly to defend herself. Whatever was in front of her parried her blows with ease. None of her attack spells came to mind, and with her enemy so close she could not grab her staff to use her magic. Then, something struck her hand hard, smacking the sword from her hand.

Another blow hit her right in the stomach, causing her to lose her balance and fall right back to the ground. Alya grasped at her middle, wincing in pain. Her heart was thudding like mad against her breastplate. Looking up in panic, all she could see was the sun's bright light and the outline of her attacker through the slit in her visor. Two blades glinted in its hands as they came up to deliver the final blow.

In a last, desperate attempt to fend him off, she tore off her helmet and threw it at him with all her might. She heard at it made contact with some part of its body as she tried to crawl to her feet to run away. But a force stepped on her cloak and pulled her back down to the ground. Alya felt her body being flipped back over so she lay on her back, and a fair amount of weight sank onto her chest. Something solid clouted her in the side of the head, making her vision blur. She felt her head go a little hazy, unable to grasp onto any thought as consciousness began to slip away.

"Wait…" She called out, weakly.

Everything began to grow black around her, and the weight on her chest lessened. All pain started to disappear. And as Alya gave into the darkness, the last thing she remembered was seeing the image of an angel with a pair of glowing wings.

**A/N: **I hope you all liked it. It was just a short filler chapie, but I left off with a cliff hanger to make up for it. Leave me lots of lovely reviews please! Love, LOR


	4. Captive

**A/N: Sorry, it has been so long my lovely readers. I've been so busy with school and such that I haven't found much time for writing. But I did manage to type up this short little chapie. I Hope it will sate your appetites for now. Read and enjoy...**

It was many hours before Alya regained consciousness. As she slowly drifted back to reality, the throbbing pain in her head greeted her. She winced against the pain; a quiet groan rose from her throat. Hesitantly, her eyes opened, blinking rapidly against the bright, orange light in front of her. Though blurred at first, her vision gradually began to clear, and the light before her came from a small campfire. It was nighttime, and the forest had grown very dark indeed.

Alya's muscles were sore and cramped from lying in one posture for so long. She began to move, trying to bring herself into a sitting position. It was then, she realized her hands had been bound behind her back. Feeling the same pressure about her ankles, Alya looked down at her legs, and sure enough, they were bound together as well. Alya pulled at her binds fiercely, a scowl set upon her features. She had no memory of this. When had she been bound up like a prisoner? Had her guards done this? Something was dreadfully wrong… Panic settling over her, Alya struggled against the ropes, pulling with all her might to be free.

"I see you are finally awake." A voice stated from beyond the fire.

Alya's head snapped up in surprise, and she looked over the blaze of the fire. There sat a man, his pale face glowing in the light. Long hair framed his face like a white-gold halo. The fire was reflected in his dark, emerald-colored eyes. His features were firm and guarded as he stared down at her.

"Do not try to struggle. It will just prove to be a waste of your time and energy." He told her. "I tied those knots myself. They will not give easily."

Alya stared up at him incredulously for many long moments, almost as if she did not comprehend what he was saying.

"Wha…what is the meaning of this?" She asked him, trying to grasp the situation. "Why am I tied up like this? Where are my guards?"

The man looked slightly taken aback at her questions. He leaned forward slightly; his green eyes flashing in the firelight.

"You do not remember?" He inquired.

"Remember what?" She exclaimed, helplessly.

And then, it all came back to her in a rush…the ambush, the chase, the fight. Both of her guards were dead, killed by unseen assailants. She had been attacked too, knocked from her horse and forced to fight for her life. And just when it had seemed she was beaten, a light…no, an angel had come to save her. Alya closed her eyes as if to block out the memory. Her guards had proved loyal in the end. The one had ridden with her until the end when he could have fled. Tears sprang to her eyes, cold, bitter tears of loss. Her body trembled from the force of the cries she kept within her. The man just continued to survey her indifferently, watching as she suffered within herself.

When she finally opened her eyes, she looked up at him, tears glistening in her blue eyes and down her cheeks. Realization and grief flickered in their clear depths, and they pierced the man accusingly.

"It was you, was it not?" She choked, coldly. "You were the one that killed them. You tried to kill me."

The man just sat silently across the fire, neither avoiding her gaze nor denying her accusations.

"I slew the one." He admitted, nonchalantly. "My partner killed the other."

Pure unadulterated hate blazed from Alya's eyes. More tears poured down her face like rain.

"And what about me?" She spat, vehemently. "Why did you not kill me?"

The man sat back to survey her; his look became almost thoughtful.

"I know who you are. I recognized your face," he explained, "Princess."

Shock flashed over Alya's face; the tears suddenly ceased.

"Ho…how?" She asked, unable to quite get the words out.

At this, the man chuckled deeply. A scowl reappeared on Alya's face. She hated being laughed at.

"The right hand of Queen Demelza is known by many. You cannot expect to not be recognized, Princess." He told her, amusement still apparent in his eyes. "Even to my kind you are was well-known as our own kin."

"Your kind?" She questioned in confusion.

A flutter of white behind him caught her attention. At first she thought it was just the glow from the fire, but through the haze she was able to make out what looked like a collection of snowy white feathers. Her eyes widened slightly. Wings…they were wings! Of course, how could she not have seen them before? The man across from her was not a Human at all, but a Winged Elf. It made sense now: her guards being dead, her current state of captivity…

"I still do not understand? Why not just kill me? What use am I to you alive?" Alya inquired, seethingly. "You would cripple the Human armies and leave the kingdoms without an heir; take care of two nuisances at once."

The Elf lowered his gaze to the fire, the flames dancing in his eyes.

"It is not my decision to make." He replied, softly. "That is to be left up to the Elders."

Alya's expression remained unmoved, though inside she felt her heart plummet.

"You mean to take me to Plume." She stated, solemnly, as if her fate had already been sealed.

He said nothing and merely nodded in reply. Alya hung her head; a wave of helplessness and despair flooded through her. The Elders of the Winged Elves would surely condemn her to die. She had led many who had killed their kin and taken many lives herself. There would be no mercy for the Human's Commanding General, and deep down, Alya knew she deserved none.

The silence was broken when someone entered their small camp, carrying the large carcass of a stag over one shoulder. He was hooded and cloaked in black; Alya could only distinguish the lower half of his face. From beneath his cloak showed an armor that consisted of leather and metal. A great scythe and sword were strapped to his back. He was a tall, menacing figure and Alya did not know whether he was man or demon. The Elf raised his eyes from the fire, and a small smirk formed on his lips.

"That is quite a kill you have got there, Dham." He commented. "I am guessing you plan to feast like a king tonight."

The dark figure grunted in reply as he set the stag down on the ground. Alya gazed at what was once a magnificent creature and noticed how hollow her stomach felt. It had been a long time since she had last eaten. The black hood that covered Dham's head turned down towards her, and though she could not see his eyes, Alya felt them burning into her. The Elf noticed his companion's drawn attention and said nonchalantly, "As you can see our guest is awake. Princess, this is Dhamashir. He once had the _pleasure_ of serving your aunt as one of her finest Blademasters. As you have most likely assumed, that is not longer the case."

Internally, Alya chuckled mirthlessly. Yes, she had drawn that conclusion. Now that she thought about it, Alya wondered if this was the traitor her aunt had put a heavy bounty on for taking battle plans to the Elves. That was how they had lost Archosaur the first time. If so, she could tell just from appearances and the sharpness of his scythe why no one had caught him yet. She turned her gaze back on the Elf and sneered "You introduce your companion when you yourself have yet to give me your own name, Master Elf."

The Elf's expression remained unmoved, but amusement danced in his green eyes.

"I am called Zahariel," he told her with mock formality, "if it pleases Your Grace."

Alya felt the back of her neck growing hot with irritation and embarrassment. She looked away, appearing very dignified for one who was bound up. Another small smirk graced Zahariel's lips at her display of pride before pulling out a piece of flint and a set of arrows from his quiver to sharpen. Dham sat down with his stag to begin the cleaning process. The camp fell silent, but the atmosphere wasn't wholly awkward. It was almost peaceful…calming. Alya lied on her back, staring up at the stars as comfortably as she could. The crackling of the fire and the soft sounds of her companions only helped to sooth and lull her into a drowsy state. Her over-stressed nerves had taken their toll, and she was utterly exhausted. Her eyes began to flutter shut as she gave into her fatigue…

Then, something nudged at her and startled her out of her stupor. She looked up to see Dham laying a cooked slab of stag meat beside her on a cloth. Her expression showed much confusion as she looked between him and the meat. How was she supposed to eat this? Suddenly, she felt the pressure of the ropes on her wrists from the rope slacken. Turning around in shock, Alya came face to face with Zahariel, who held the fraid ropes in his hands. She pulled her hands out from behind her, massaging her aching wrists gently as she kept her cautious gaze upon him.

"Your hands might make it easier to eat opposed to just using your mouth." He stated, matter-of-factly.

Her untrusting blue eyes never left his; hints of bewilderment still glinting within them.

"And if I try to run?" She asked, bluntly.

The edge of his mouth quirked up in a smirk, which made the redness return to her face, and he replied, "You will not. Even if you tried, your legs are still bound. You would not get far."

Alya glared at him as he rose and went back to his place opposite her the fire. With that, she turned her attention to the food placed in front of her and felt her stomach grumble as its delicious scent reach her nose. All sense of formality and manners left her then, as she took the meat in her hands and began to tear at it ravenously with her teeth. As she ate, Alya began to feel the extent of her hunger. It felt as if she had not eaten in years. She inhaled her food chuck by large chuck until there was nothing left but the bloody juices on her hands. Another smaller piece of meat was offered to her, which she accepted and ate at a more reserved pace. She savored each bite, not knowing how much longer she would be able to eat this well. When she had finished it off as well, Zahariel tossed her a flask filled with water, and she drank it down gratefully so it could sooth her aching throat. Her companions paid her no head and kept their attentions on their own meals. Dham was salting the remnants of the meat and letting the stag skin dry by the fire. Zahariel chewed on bits of root as he continued to sharpen his arrows.

Alya surveyed the two almost curiously before lying back down on her side. Pillowing her head on her arms, her eyes gazed through the fire at Zahariel. She could not describe the feeling she got from him, whether it was resentment or gratitude. For someone as fair as he, strength ran through his entire body, even in those deft and skilled hands of his. Feeling her gaze upon him, Zahariel looked up, emerald eyes meeting hers. Alya felt something within her stir, and her eyes narrowed at the feeling. With that, she rolled over onto her back and gazed up at the star. The branches littered with leaves above her waved slowly in the breeze. A pale, crescent moon made its nightly climb up into the sky. Alya sighed heavily as weariness seeped throughout her being. As she let her eyes drift closed, Alya felt herself travel back to the home of her Sensei. Sadness pressed down upon her as she thought of how their latest parting had been their last. Though he had never spoken of it to her, she knew he had had high hopes for her.

Alya held back the tears the swelled beneath her closed lids. No more tears must be shed. It was done. Fate had finally shown her its cards. This was her path now, and she must learn to accept it. And so, Alya drifted into an empty sleep, bravely facing the darkness ahead.

**A/N: Well, that's all I have for now. Leave me lots of wonderful reviews! Love, LOR**


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